


Scrapefoot

by Terminallydepraved



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Blood, Cumplay, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Panties, Rimming, Rough Sex, blow job mention, thigh highs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-14 10:57:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4561926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terminallydepraved/pseuds/Terminallydepraved
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chrollo finds himself alone in Hisoka's rooms at Heaven's Arena. He isn't the best guest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scrapefoot

**Author's Note:**

> This was a self-indulgent yougei fic and a lot of fun to write. I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I did!

His footsteps squelched against the plush hall carpet and Chrollo tried not to shiver as a draft tickled along his damp skin. He had forgone his shirt, not expecting the harsh downpour when he had left for Heaven’s Arena. Goosebumps rose along his skin and he crossed his arms to his chest after knocking on the door, already wishing he was back home and done with this errand.

Hisoka opened the door after a moment of shivering. Chrollo managed a weak smile before pushing his way inside and away from the drafty hall. “We have some matters that need to be discussed, Hisoka,” Chrollo called out over his shoulder as he walked into the sitting room, shucking his wet coat.

“Oh hello, Danchou, what a pleasant surprise, please come in,” Hisoka replied, closing the door. “I do hope you're well. I’m a bit tired from all the nasty weather but it's nothing to complain about, thanks for asking.”

His attempts at fostering polite conversation weren’t all that sincere. Chrollo chose to ignore it while he knelt to remove his heavy waterlogged boots. “There’s a new job in the works and I’m afraid I need to...” he paused when he caught sight of Hisoka toeing on his own shoes, fixing his hair in the hall mirror. “Are you going somewhere?” 

There was a hum of acknowledgment while Hisoka primped. “I do wish you would have called first. I’m afraid I have a battle scheduled in a few minutes that I simply must make. It won’t take long, please make yourself at home.” His tone was flippant and before Chrollo could respond, he was out the door.

As Chrollo sat there on the floor, one boot off and the other unlaced, he took in the silence, his soaked clothing, and the time he would be waiting for Hisoka to return. His other boot hit the floor with a wet thud and he stood, looking around the spacious floor Hisoka called his own.

If he had awhile to wait, he figured that he might as well be comfortable while he did it.

oOo

Chrollo was curled up on a plush armchair when Hisoka finally returned from his fight, covered in blood and grinning like a loon. Book in hand, Chrollo didn’t pay him much mind. It had been hours since the magician had left him and he had become quite engrossed in his reading. He listened with half an ear to Hisoka kicking off his shoes.

The man inhaled sharply when he caught sight of Chrollo in the corner.

“Are you finally ready to discuss the job now?” Chrollo asked, crossing his legs. Hisoka’s eyes were fixed on the movement even as he drew closer.

“Oh Danchou,” Hisoka crooned, “what on earth are you wearing?” His voice was near reverent and he approached slowly, towering over Chrollo in his chair. Blood dripped from his fingertips, from his cheek, remnants of his battle and of the opponent that was most certainly dead.

Chrollo glanced down at his legs, the high socks covering most of his exposed skin, the large sweater he had appropriated from Hisoka’s dresser covering the rest. “Well, seeing as my clothing was wet, I felt inclined to find myself some dry ones. I hope you don’t mind, I may have helped myself to your wardrobe while you were out.” He turned the page in his book, his fingers almost obscured by the long sleeve.

Falling to his knees, Hisoka inched closer. “I don’t think I own any thigh high socks, Danchou,” he replied, letting his fingertips hover over the soft cashmere. Chrollo pulled his legs away before he could touch, too conscious of the wet blood to allow any careless touching.

“You don’t. I was wearing this when I came here.” Another page turned and Chrollo met Hisoka’s eyes over the spine, taking in the bloody mess covering him. “Don’t touch me. I don’t want them ruined.”

Hisoka laughed but eased off a little, taking in the empty tea cup next to Chrollo, the towel hanging off the back of the arm chair, his sweater swallowing Chrollo’s smaller frame whole. Behind the chair, he could see the pile of wet clothes, tossed down carelessly in Chrollo’s desire to dry off. “You certainly made yourself at home while I was out. What a guest you are, taking all these liberties,” he said with a smile. “To think, you won’t even let me touch you. How rude, Danchou.”

Grey eyes rolled in response and Chrollo closed his book with a snap. “You’re filthy,” Chrollo observed, using his toes to shove Hisoka back, pushing at a clean spot on his sternum. He looked Hisoka up and down, taking in the blood painted across his figure. “Is any of this yours, or did you find the urge to see if blood truly is a beauty restorative?”

The dark blue of the socks bled purple when Hisoka gripped the slim ankle, pulling Chrollo closer. He ignored his frustrated noise and fixed himself between Chrollo’s legs, dripping blood all the while. “Such a rude, rude guest. But it does look like you at least brought me a gift,” Hisoka murmured, teasing his lips along the white stripes against a knee. They didn’t remain white for long.

With a powerful kick, Chrollo laid Hisoka out flat on the floor, his bloodied socks resting on his prone form. He sat there in the seat, annoyed by the state of his clothing. He glared when Hisoka again gripped tight his ankle.

“Ahh, that face,” Hisoka moaned as he sunk his nails into Chrollo’s skin, “that’s what I like to see.”

His voice was so victorious, so obviously enjoying this, that Chrollo felt entirely justified in grinding his heel into Hisoka’s hard cock. His socks were already stained, dark purple fingerprints spotting up along his shin. A little more wouldn’t matter too much. Chrollo rubbed the hard length and listened as Hisoka writhed and groaned. The display was entirely wanton and distasteful, but it was Hisoka, so he wasn’t surprised in the slightest.

The surprise came when yellow eyes widened, fixed on the sight of Chrollo’s stolen sweater riding up as he ground against his foot. In an instant, he was upright, grabbing Chrollo by the thighs and lifting him bodily from the chair to straddle his lap. Chrollo struggled, trying to push the bloody hands away. He froze when the sweater was tugged up, revealing the rest of his clothing he had been able to salvage from the rain.

“Danchou...” Hisoka whispered, eyes transfixed. “Are you wearing panties?” His voice was dripping with glee, as if everything he had ever wanted had suddenly come to fruition before his eyes.

Chrollo smacked the hands away and pulled the sweater back down, hiding the white and blue striped undergarments from sight. “I didn’t say you could look, Hisoka. Let me go,” he ordered, trying to keep his voice level and the embarrassment off his face.

Instead of compliance, he received a blood-flecked kiss.

When he pulled away, Hisoka was grinning wickedly. “Oh, come now, you help yourself to my pantry, my clothing, my furniture,” he paused to deliver another mind-numbing kiss. “I think the least I deserve is a little peek at your cute little panties.”

Another kiss and Chrollo was struggling to remember why he didn’t just give in originally. The hands pulled the sweater up again, and this time, Chrollo glanced away, his cheeks flushed, as Hisoka looked his fill. They weren’t anything special really, he thought. Just simple cotton, blue base with white stripes. They were comfortable and allowed for a wide range of movement. This level of scrutiny was unnecessary, and he told Hisoka as much.

Hisoka shushed him, feeding him another kiss before laying him flat against the plush carpet. The sweater was bunched up under his chin, and it was a level of exposure that left him feeling vulnerable under the hungry yellow stare. Bloody fingerprints dotted his skin now, flaking slightly as it began to dry.

“So quiet now, how odd,” Hisoka breathed, beginning to press biting kiss to Chrollo’s stomach, his hipbones, the waistband of his panties snapping against his skin. “I like you wearing my clothing.”

Chrollo bit his lip and threw a leg over Hisoka’s shoulder, opening his thighs further for Hisoka to work between. “Get on with it before I leave, Hisoka.” His head rolled to the side as Hisoka ran his tongue heavily over the front of his panties, dragging over the outline of his cock.

It was obvious Hisoka didn’t want to be rushed and he made it known. His large hand encompassed a truly impressive distance around Chrollo’s thigh before pulling it from around his shoulder. “Leave? But I only just got back. Don’t tell me you only came to visit so you could use my things.” Voice hurt but expression bright, Hisoka flipped Chrollo onto his stomach, pulling his knees up to put his hands on his ass.

Chrollo’s face burned and he tried to turn back over, but the hands on his hips were like steel. He was forced into the position, his elbows supporting his front while his ass was fondled, the panties snapped teasingly. “Hisoka, please,” he managed, shaking a little from the humiliation and the hands he could feel teasing along his cock.

“Please what? I think I should get an apology from you,” Hisoka crooned, his breath hot against the thin fabric.

It was humiliating, but Chrollo couldn’t help pressing into the heat. “Please, Hisoka,” he pleaded quietly, arching his spine. “I’m sorry?”

Hot hands positioned his thighs closer together and Hisoka hummed under his breath. “Not quite sincere, but I really think your gift makes up for it.” There was a moment of confusion when Chrollo felt something insinuate itself between his clenched thighs, right above where his socks ended, before he realized what Hisoka intended to do.

“Sit still and keep these together,” Hisoka ordered, stroking a cashmere covered thigh, “and I’ll give you something nice. Let’s see if you can be the perfect guest after all.” He waited a moment for Chrollo to clench his thighs before he fucked into the space, slowly at first, and then faster as his precum began to ease the way a bit. Chrollo shuddered at each thrust, the head of Hisoka’s cock delivering teasing friction to his trapped length. This wasn’t a position he had ever been in before and it was alight with new sensations, a novel sort of eroticism.

It didn’t take long for him to start begging, the small brushes doing nothing to satisfy the want, only exacerbating it. He buried his fingers into the sleeves of the sweater still bunched up around his shoulders, biting into the soft fabric to hide his reactions. Hisoka was a hot force behind him, his own fingers fixed in the flesh of his hips, thumbs stroking over the stripes.

When Hisoka came, he made sure to aim for the lines. Chrollo whimpered at the wetness soaking through the thin fabric, at the undeniable mess it was going to make. He shook while Hisoka rode his orgasm to the finish, and then let himself be spread, his thighs framing Hisoka’s from behind.

Hisoka was breathing heavily, running his hands over every inch of Chrollo’s legs, the cashmere so smooth it felt like water. “So good, Chrollo, so very good,” he exhaled with reverence, running his clever tongue along the mess. He started low and pressed the damp fabric against sensitive flesh with each stroke. Chrollo was writhing against the ministrations, depending on Hisoka to keep him upright.

“Please, please, Hisoka,” Chrollo begged into the sweater, thrusting his ass back against Hisoka’s mouth. A hand grabbed a thigh and lifted him up and onto his side with his leg thrown over a broad shoulder. It opened him up even wider to the hot tongue. Another wet lick and Chrollo was coming inside his panties, adding to the stains littering his clothing.

His panties were a soggy, soppy mess and Hisoka drank in the sight, his hands exploring even through Chrollo’s afterglow. “What a mess, what an absolute mess,” he whispered against Chrollo’s lax lips, kissing the last of the breath from him. Chrollo didn’t have the strength to disagree, so he let him cradle him and take in his fill of the mess he had made.

It was when he had come back to himself enough to pull away that Chrollo realized he was now essentially out of wearable clothing. He glared at Hisoka, snapping at him when he tried to follow him into the shower only to be ignored and treated to a blow job. It wasn’t enough to clean his clothes, but it went pretty far in easing the frustration.

As he stood in Hisoka’s bedroom, surveying his options hanging in the closet, Chrollo thought back to the reason of his visit. He pulled down some boxers, found them too large but put them on anyway, and turned to Hisoka lounging naked on the bed behind him.

“I still haven’t told you about the job yet,” Chrollo admitted, watching Hisoka stretch languidly against the sheets.

“Then maybe you should stay for a while. Tell me all the juicy details.”

Chrollo looked at the too big shirts, the too long pants, and thought on his cold, damp clothes still piled somewhere in the living room. He had no idea where his panties had gone during the shower, and he hadn’t seen his thigh highs since they were peeled off him by Hisoka’s teeth. He thought hard, and in the end, he crawled onto the bed to straddle Hisoka’s waist.

“Well, maybe just until the rain stops.”

**Author's Note:**

> Chrollo's never going to see those panties again, just fyi guys. Anyway, i hope you enjoyed this! check me out on tumblr (terminallydepraved) and let me know what you think!


End file.
